Patty Brown

if there is a god

where right now

might the divine be

how is it

we have so many who pray

and yet the days get away

nothing has changed

people have hearts

and brains

but they live in utter disdain

they speak of kindness

yet they walk quickly past

brown birch in the blue

i search for you

the delicious blur

of eye shade hues

the lovely tree

in shades of brown

hints of gray


a tinge of graphite

like the charcoal dark skies

that get in my way

on my most perfect of days

but oh


Dear Mike,

I happened upon your Twitter feed, and I am intrigued with your wisdom. I then connected you to Sutter Hill Ventures. I then visited the Sutter Hill site. I am still intrigued.

In just a few minutes, I knew I had to contact you. The site gives pertinent…


i just want to turn off the light

walk out the door

rest my bones

in the beauty of all alone

i want to gaze above

at the stars

the twinkle of hope

on nights like this

i want to close my eyes

and feel like somebody else


when do we end

how long do we have

will we be forgotten

in the great expanse of time

will we slowly disappear

into that dark and lonely night

will the stars still twinkle bright

or will they fall into despair

there will be no one

no one at all

did your dreams come true

did everything happen

the way you thought it would

did you find the landscape

you desired and deserved

you know

i once knew you well

and then life took the reins

we moved on


i would see you again

on the orange juice aisle

the paradox of life

we have our dreams

we have our thoughts

rumbling in our heads

oh how we long to see them

in the real

to feel them

to hear them

and yet more often than not

they elude us

we are to be so grateful

for naught



it was never supposed to happen to me

the perfect world

that some people know

so very well

maybe for me

it was the imperfect world

where i have no idea

where i will be

so i watch people

as they move through life

everything has a shelf

a drawer

a closet

a door

the way the moon

falls across their bedroom floor

there is an expectation

like spring before summer

daffodils before dahlias

the seasons of my life

are a blur

of whimsy and not enough

of a grief

a yearning

to feel extraordinary

in another’s touch

in the gaze of here

is all their is

a perfect place

for love and grace

an imperfect me

in this human race

~ patty

photo- @ctt956

I walk my dogs on a friend’s farm. There are a few homes there and one neighbor has a Christmas tree in the middle of a pond they borders their back yard and a pasture. As I walked back to my car, as dusk was falling, I could see its lovely presence and reflection through the trees. For some reason it defined Christmas for me this year. The lonely but beautiful starkness of this time we now live. I stopped to capture it and felt an eerie sadness, like a grief of endings.

it was the end of november

considerably late

on this very short day

it was the blue hour

to be exact

i grabbed a bag of cut apples

from the fridge

and dashed out the door

i ran down the hill

across the familiar wood bridge

up the hill


Patty Brown

If life steers you into a dead end road, and you are trying to find your way, skip the GPS, take the road with no traffic. Founder studiO, early morning poet.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store